


Just the Two of Us

by Clarrisani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, John Knows, Pre-Series, Stanford Sam, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarrisani/pseuds/Clarrisani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds it hard to forgive Sam for abandoning Dean to go to Stanford.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just the Two of Us

**Author's Note:**

> 1) John knows  
> 2) Dean is 25 in this story  
> 3) Title from Will Smith's song "Just the Two of Us"

John Winchester sighed as he pulled his truck into the parking place next to the Impala, turning off the engine and running a hand over his face. He paused, collecting his thoughts before he reached into the back seat and grabbed his bag, exiting the truck. It was a short walk to the motel room where his son was, but it was far enough for John to go over what he was going to say before he walked in the door.

Dean looked up as he entered, studying him for a second before going back to cleaning his guns. John remembered how there was once a time Dean hadn’t been so meticulous with keeping his equipment clean, but that had been before Dean’s gun jammed in the middle of a hunt and had almost gotten Dean killed. It was a tough way to learn a lesson, but it was a lesson learned nonetheless.

“Did you see him?” Dean asked.

“I saw him.” John dropped his onto the floor, retrieving a beer from the small fridge and sliding into a seat at the kitchen table. “Didn’t talk to him.”

“Figured you wouldn’t.” Dean began snapping his handgun back together with practiced ease, John feeling a soft flare-up of fatherly pride. “Did he see you?”

“No. Made sure of it.” John popped the lid off the bottle, taking a sip as he watched Dean work. “I went by the office. He’s still topping his class. He’s working part time filing at a law firm close to Stanford to get himself extra credit.”

“Like he needs it,” Dean muttered.

John had to agree with him there. Sam was a high achiever – he never did anything by halves. That included walking out on the family and cutting off all contact. John could understand Sam cutting him off – they hadn’t been on the best of terms in recent years – but Sam had also closed Dean out of his life as well.

“He’s gotten himself an apartment,” John said, gauging Dean’s reaction. “He’s living with his girlfriend.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose as he paused, looking toward him. “Sammy’s gotten himself a girl?”

John nodded. “Her name is Jessica.”

“She hot?”

John had to smile at that. “Your brother and I share a similar taste in women.”

“So a cute blonde then,” Dean said, returning to where he was now cleaning his shotgun. “The apartment check out?”

“It’s clean. I talked to the landlord. Said I was a city official, inspecting buildings in the area. From what I can tell there used to be some kind of spirit living there, but it disappeared not long after Sam and his girl moved in.”

“Sam took care of it then,” Dean said. “Good to know he’s still in practice.”

“He’s still training too,” John told him, stretching his legs out in front of him as he took a longer drink from his beer. “Gym twice a week. Goes for a jog when he can. He’s also got a membership at the local rifle range.”

Dean scowled. “He’s leaving himself a paper trail.”

“Yeah, I know.” John set the bottle down on the table, watching in silence as Dean finished going over the shotgun barrel with an intense scrutiny.

Dean was as much a perfectionist as Sam was, although Dean would never admit it. He was a good boy, and had an independent streak in him much like his brother, but one Dean suppressed. It made Dean a good hunter, but sometimes John regretted dragging him into this life. He knew, though, that if he said anything Dean would roll his eyes and chastise him – hunting was Dean’s life, and he enjoyed it.

“Dean, I’m sorry.”

Dean glanced up briefly as he blew the loose dirt out of the barrel. “What for?”

“Sam.” John twirled his ring around his finger. “For driving him away.”

Dean frowned. “Dad, he was always going to go. We both knew that.”

“He cut off all contact to us, to you, because of me.” John regarded him, searching Dean’s poker face for a reaction. “I don’t mind that he left and I’m god damned proud of what he’s doing, but because of the things I said he cut himself off. I never wanted to drive a wedge between you boys.”

“You didn’t,” Dean assured him. “Sam wanted to get away from this life, and I’m a big fat reminder of it.”

“Dean…”

“His loss.” Dean shrugged, setting down the cleaning brush and beginning to put the shotgun back together. “He knows how to get in contact if he wants too, and he knows he doesn’t have to involve you.”

John sighed, pushing himself up and stepping over to where Dean sat on the bed. He moved a rifle to the side so he could sit down beside his son, watching as deft fingers clicked the gun parts back together smoothly. “I pulled you aside all those years ago and told you not to hurt your brother. I should have done the same thing for Sam.”

Dean glanced at him, quickly. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” He clenched and unclenched his hands, shaking his head. “He hurt you, Dean.”

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.” He looked up, searching Dean’s face. “You’re my boy. I can read the signs.”

Dean sighed heavily as he snapped the last piece of the gun back into place, placing the shotgun down to the side with the other cleaned equipment. “I just wish he’d call, you know?”

“I know.” John reached up, resting a hand on the back of Dean’s neck and feeling the tenseness in the muscles and tendons. “I don’t think Sam really thought about how much his walking out would affect you. Given how close you were he should have seen straight through your charade of playing things off as fine.”

“I wanted him to go, Dad, I did. I just… miss him.” Dean shook his head, and John could see his resolve crumbling. “I’m worried about him.”

“He can look after himself – “

“I know that. He learnt from the best.” Dean smiled faintly, hands coming to rest on his knees. “It’s just…”

“I know, son.” John rubbed his back, trying to ease the tension. Sometimes he questioned allowed Sam and Dean to become as close as they had, allowing it to go beyond a normal brotherly relationship. It had made them a stronger team, knowing each other so intimately. John had kept the rules pretty basic – do what they want when they’re on their own, minimise PTA around John, and make sure no one caught them.

“You know,” Dean said, turning his head slightly toward John, “I never did thank you for… “

“You don’t have to thank me,” John said.

“No, I do.” Dean worried his lip, and John could almost see the cogs spinning in Dean’s head. “I mean, you could have run me out. Could have dumped me on the side of the road somewhere and just driven off.”

“Why would you think I’d do that?”

“Because of Sammy.”

John sighed. He’d known for a long time Dean felt guilty over his and Sam’s relationship. It wasn’t something he ever discussed with his boys. He’d made it clear he didn’t want specifics. “I would never abandon you boys, no matter what you did. Besides, with all the fucked up shit we go through and the fact we’re all going to hell, what’s one more thing, eh?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You boys always took care of each other, and that’s all that mattered to me. How you did that… it just wasn’t important.”

“It’s still kind of a taboo thing.”

“So are digging up graves and sacrificing goats on alters.”

Dean seemed to consider this. “So really it’s pretty par for the course.”

“Exactly.” John slapped Dean on the back, letting his hand linger before he stood and wandered back over to the kitchen to set about putting together something for them to eat. “I can give you Sam’s address if you want to go see him.”

“Nah. Last thing he needs is his big brother showing up at his door.”

“He doesn’t have to see you, Dean.” John glanced over at him quickly as he inspected the inside of the fridge. “It’d give you a chance to see that he’s all right with your own eyes.”

“It’s fine, Dad. I’m happy to take your word for it.”

John watched him as Dean began packing the guns back into his bag, noting the look of sadness on Dean’s face. It hurt John to know that Dean was willing to put his own feelings aside in order for Sam to be happy. It was something Dean had done since he and Sam had been children, and John knew it was partly his fault for burdening Dean with so much of Sam’s upbringing.

Closing the fridge door, John straightened. “You know what, let’s go out for dinner.”

Dean paused and glanced up at him.

John smiled and winked. “Diner down the road has a choice of pie with every large meal.”

Dean was out the door before John had even finished the sentence, causing John to laugh. Dean’s love of pie had always been something John found endearing about his oldest boy. He reached out, picking up Dean’s forgotten jacket even as Dean called for him to hurry up. As he headed for the door, John slipped the address to Sam’s apartment into one of the pockets before folding the jacket over his arm and joining his eager son.


End file.
